 | James Callahan February 2 | It's been quite a year
and well worth forgetting,
we've survived more
than our share, at least to us,
but we wouldn't wish
our troubles on others for
some of them were
our doing (well, mine mostly,
but you've kindly agreed
to bear that burden,
and for that I'm most grateful);
it could have been worse,
much worse, I confess,
but it simply won't do
to worry about the
lesser of comparison,
for that is shallow at best
and no consolation at all –
beneath us, I believe;
and so we turn another
year's page, but there's
no reset or do-over, only
prayers and pleas for mercy
(oh, how we've come
to rely upon mercy – that
gentle understanding of
love which does not
prevent the wounds
but applies salve in
kindness, welcoming us,
indulging our stories
and fears as your own –
mercy is most enjoyable,
but it's only known in
hindsight on days such as this. | | | |  | You can also reply to this email to leave a comment. | | | | |
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